


As My King Commands

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, F/M, Family, King John, Pregnancy, Queen Y/N, Reader Insert, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 17:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11490855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Saw a gif of JDM in a film as a knight... this happened.





	As My King Commands

The snow had stopped falling a month before, and the weather was warming, bringing spring to the kingdom. You found less and less need for a fire in the hearth of a night, although you kept one burning in the absence of the warm body that normally laid next to yours. It had been a long winter, and you were anxious for a raven to tell you that your husband was returning home.

It was dawn when you rose on the spring equinox, dressing with the help of your handmaidens, and setting about your duties in the castle. You saw to the orphan children at prayer, and spoke with the kitchen staff about the upcoming spring feast. Once you’d done that, you’d gone down to the stables, to check on the foaling, as birthing season had started early. Seeing the swollen bellies of the mares made you smile, and you made sure to look in on your own horse, a beautiful chestnut filly that your husband had gifted you the year before.

And then the raven came. It squawked as it landed on the ramparts, and you immediately emerged from the stables, looking to the watchman on the wall. The raven swooped down, landing deftly on the roof of the aviary, just as Sir William rounded the corner with a smile on his face.

“It is from the King,” he announced, and you couldn’t help but return his smile, approaching slowly, lifting your skirts to avoid the muck on the floor. Sir William caught the bird, deftly unwrapping the red cord, the colour of the King, from around it’s leg, pulling the small wrap of parchment clear. The bird made a noise, before hopping down, pecking at the ground. “The battle is won,” Sir William read, passing you the note. “They will be returning before the week is out.”

“So soon?” you asked, scanning the contents yourself before allowing your smile to spread.

“They have fared well, according to the reports from the squires. Minimal losses.” The old knight placed a hand on your shoulder, locking his eyes with his. “He will home before the Spring Feast, my lady. Have cheer in your heart. He will be happy to see you.”

You nodded, feeling happy tears fill your eyes. There was no doubt he would be happy to see you, and you to see him.

Especially when you gave him your news.

*****

The days passed swiftly in a flurry of preparations for the feast. Lords and ladies were coming from the nearest towns, people travelled from villages, ready to give their best offerings for the feast. As was the King’s decree, no one in the kingdom went hungry on the night; for the most part, King John ensured no one would go hungry permanently. The kingdom was thriving under his rule, and he was raising his sons to follow in his footsteps.

As the feast drew closer, you began to worry, having heard nothing of your husband since the raven’s note. Sir William continued to assure you, as did Lady Ellen, but you still held concern in your heart for the whereabouts of your love.

The sun was high in the sky above the castle grounds as you went about your daily duties, stopping to speak to one of your handmaiden’s mother’s in the market place. She was weaving a beautiful creation, and you were intrigued by the color of the wool she was using. 

“It’s such a beautiful shade,” you whispered, almost in awe. “How did you get it to that color, may I ask?” The older woman smiled, leaning back to respond, just as the trumpets sounded at the gate. You span on your heel, all other thoughts fleeing your mind as you looked to the gates.

“The King has returned!” the gatekeeper called, and you felt love and joy swell in your chest. The lady shooed you off, and you moved quickly through the crowd, seeing them part as you moved through, reaching the front as the sound of galloping horses bounced off of the walls.

At the forefront of the horses, sat the King, smiling widely, his horse and clothes dirtied from his journey. His two grown sons flanked his position, with Sir Bobby behind him. They all looked tired, but joyful, no doubt grateful to be home. You clasped your hands to your chin, frozen to the spot as the King climbed down from his horse, handing the reigns to his squire.

“My queen,” he boomed, and the spell holding you still broke. You ran forward, almost knocking the thin gold band of a crown from your head as you barrelled into his arms, squealing with happiness. The King laughed, holding you close, burying his face in your neck. “I missed you,” he groaned, kissing the column of your throat. “So much.”

“I missed you too, my king,” you whispered, pulling back to kiss him on the lips, feeling the scratchiness of his beard, which had grown since you’d seen him last. “You need a bath, my love.”

John chuckled, smiling widely. “I do indeed.” He frowned, looking down at you, his hand moving from your back round to your front. “Is this…” You nodded, watching his face as his eyes dropped to your stomach, the barely rounded bump of your front. “How long?”

“Five moons past, the healers told me,” you replied, quietly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “The night before you left for battle… I think you left something behind.” His eyes moved back up to meet yours, his smile growing ever wider. “Are you happy?”

“I am beyond happiness, my love,” he said, pulling you into a deep kiss, earning a cheer from the gathered crowd. When he pulled away, you sighed, allowing him to tuck you into his side, motioning to his sons. “Dean, Sam, stable the horses. The Spring Feast awaits!”

*****

“I had Geoffrey draw you a bath.” You picked up John’s shirt, raising your eyes to see him stood at the window, firelight glinting off of his muscled back. Dropping the clothing onto the bed, you moved up behind him, encircling his waist with your arms. He sighed, giving a little moan of contentment as you rested your cheek against his shoulder blade.

“I missed you, so much,” he muttered, pulling one of your hands free, lifting it to place a kiss to your knuckles. He turned in your arms, tugging you closer. “My beautiful queen.”

You smiled, ducking your head as a blush coated your cheeks. “I missed you too, my king.” His hands moved down, covering your swollen belly. “I was worried you would not be happy about this.”

“Why would I not be?” John asked, a confused frown on his face. “I have longed for a child with you.” He bent down, kissing you firmly. “It is not as if this child will bear the weight of the kingdom. Dean is my heir, and this child… this child will be just as loved and protected as my others.”

It had been a long time coming, you knew that. John’s first Queen, Mary, had died in a raid nearly twenty years before. When John had met you, he was on a crusade for revenge against the neighbouring kingdom, and you’d been there to see his final revenge on the man that ordered the death of so many of his people.

Not long after that, he’d declared his intention to court you, and a year later, you were married, in peaceful times. The kingdom had been quiet since then, aside from the battles with King Fergus in the North, the battle from which John had just returned.

“Maybe I would give you a girl,” you whispered. “I know you’d love a daughter.”

John gave a small laugh, pressing his forehead against yours, his long hair covering the sides of his face like a curtain. “Maybe you shall, Queen Y/N. But for now, I should like to clean myself of the grit of battle, and show my wife how much I have longed for her touch.” He took your hand, leading you across the room, into the dwelling chambers adjacent to your bedchamber. The large iron bathtub was in front of the fire, still steaming from the heat of the water.

He stripped out of his breeches, climbing in as you took up a position kneeling at the side, reaching down for the sponge that bobbed in the waves he created. Without pausing, you dragging it up along his back, relishing the groan he gave as you soothed his aching muscles.

“You managed to avoid bloodying yourself this time, I see,” you commented, and John grinned, continuing to lean forward so you could clean him. Normally, this would be a handmaiden’s duty, or a servants, but you always loved to bathe him, and it didn’t hurt that the act usually ended in him throwing you onto the bed. “I do not care to see you injured like last time.”

The occasion you were referring to was a lucky shot from a squire in King Fergus’ ranks. John had sustained a serious knife wound to his abdomen, which had left him in pain and suffering from infection for days. Healers had come and gone, and for a time, you’d been worried that you would lose him. The scar from his injury still lingered, and you ran the sponge over it, cleaning away the grime that coated his skin.

“I am careful, my love,” he replied, turning to look at you as you diligently finished washing him down. “I did not want to distress you. Even less so now I know of your delicate condition.”

“I am not delicate,” you countered, a stern tone making him chuckle again. “Do not mistake me for some wilting flower, my lord.”

He caught your hand, dragging you closer to the tub to kiss you, and you whined, trying to avoid getting wet as he did so. “I would never make such an assumption, my warrior queen.”

Of course, he would pull out his pet name for you. That was how he’d met you, on the field, a maiden in the uprising against a brutal tyrant. You’d once been a girl from a small village, with a knight for a father, murdered by King Fergus, and in that memory, you’d trained yourself to become a weapon in your own right.

John hadn’t been able to resist you. 

“Wash your hair,” you instructed, wiggling out of his hold and standing. “I must dress for the feast.”

“We have time,” he murmured, still clinging to your hand. You tutted, turning away and walking back into the bedchamber, swaying your hips. There was no need to call for your handmaidens - the dress you had picked was a simple shift and tunic - the Spring Feast was a relaxed and casual atmosphere, where everyone drank and made merry until the dawn, in honor of the season.

As you pulled your dress down and removed your undergarments, you heard your husband sloshing in the water. You pulled your hair free from its bindings, allowing it to hang freely around your shoulders, before picking up your brush.

“Allow me,” John whispered, coming up behind you, naked as the day he was born, dripping water across the floor. You opened your mouth to scold him for the mess, but his thick fingers surrounded yours, making you surrender the brush. His body was inches away as he started to drag the brush through your thick locks, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the intimate gesture. “You are a goddess,” he muttered, his strokes slowing as he leaned in to kiss your shoulders. “So beautiful…”

“John…” you moaned, knowing he had every intention of ravishing you. “We haven’t time -”

He put the brush down, placing his hands on your hips to drag you back against his body. His cock was hard, pressing into your lower back as he started to kiss a path along your neck, pushing your hair out of the way. “I am the king, my love, and I say we have time.”

“As my King commands,” you giggled, allowing him to turn you around, his cock pressing into your rounded belly as he seized your lips. “Hmm, John…”

His fingers slid down your sides, stopping to cup your ass and pull you tighter against him, before he gripped your thighs, hoisting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, continuing to kiss him as he carried you towards the large four poster bed that occupied most of the room. Keeping his movements gentle, he placed you on top of the woven blankets, breaking his lips from yours to journey down your throat, continuing over your breasts. He paused, sucking each hardened nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive buds, smiling at the moans that left your mouth as he did so. “Are they sensitive, my love?”

You nodded, gasping as he kissed further south, over your belly. He pressed his nose into the underside of your bump, sighing happily.

“You are a gift, my beautiful Queen.”

His tongue traced a line from your belly button down to your mound, skirting over the fine hair there, before he spread your thighs, opening you up to him. Your clit was already throbbing, and you keened needily as he lapped at your slick pussy, his big hands holding your legs spread wide. Everything was heightened, more sensitive than it had been the last time you had made love. You hadn’t abstained from touching yourself in your husband’s absence, but there was nothing like his touch.

John thrust his tongue into your entrance, flexing the thick organ to stroke your inner walls, and you wailed in pleasure, unable to move your hips with his hands holding you down. All you could think about was having him inside you, reclaiming his place as your husband, making you beg for your climax.

“Taste so good,” he growled, his beard tickling your inner thighs. It only added to the pleasure, and as he fucked his tongue into you again, you cried out, feeling your body pulse with your orgasm, and John kept moving, kept thrusting into you as you shivered beneath him.

Before you even had a chance to draw breath, he was crawling up your body, lining up his cock to sink home, and you both groaned with the connection, your fingers reaching up to clutch at his shoulders. He took care not to put his weight on you, lifting your legs up to circle his waistline, making the depth of his penetration more intense.

“Spread out before me like a feast of the gods,” he grunted, keeping his strokes measured and strong. You could only nod and whine, trying to move your ass to meet him at every punch of his cock into your body. “I am blessed,” he whispered, leaning to suckle at your breasts. The noise that came from you was needy, and it spurred John on, making him shift to pound into you harder. A coil inside you tightened and then snapped, and your walls tightened around him, making him growl with pleasure.

“My King, please,” you begged, so close to your peak. “I want to feel you with me,” you gasped as he slammed into you again.

He chuckled, fixing his eyes on yours. “So hungry for me, my Queen.” His fingers grasped your hips, and he straightened his back, using the power of his thighs to drive into you as your ass came off of the bed. “It would not be a wonder if you were carrying two of my seed in your belly.”

You cried out as his thumb flicked over your clit, and you were done for. John groaned as your pussy sucked him in, the sound of your wetness obscene against the walls of the bedchamber. “Please!” you cried, desperate to feel him.

There were no words as he pounded into you, his hips stuttering for a split second before he held himself tight against your hips, his cock twitching and pulsing inside you, a primal sound echoing from his throat as he came. You sobbed with pleasure, reaching for him when you were sure he was done, and he moved, pulling you with him to lay on your sides on the blankets.

“I missed you so much,” he repeated, the thousandth time he’d said it that evening. “Let us hope for no more battles. No more wars. I do not wish to leave my Queen again.”

You smiled, nuzzling into him. “Or your Princess, when she is born.”

“You are certain of it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not certain,” you replied, sighing heavily. “But I only wish for my King to be happy.”

John smiled, brushing hair out of your eyes, before resting his hand on your cheek. “My love, I have never been happier.”


End file.
